


Nobody's Family Is Perfect

by chipsaestrella



Series: Nobody Chooses Their Times [3]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, POV Female Character, POV: Natasha Romanov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-29 14:31:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chipsaestrella/pseuds/chipsaestrella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>Director Fury is one of the scariest people Natasha’s ever come across (and she once knew the Winter Soldier). He’s also as mad as a hatter.</p><p>The first thing he says to Natasha is, “Now that you're with us, Barton is your and Coulson’s shared responsibility, not just Coulson’s.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't thank enough my beta [zedille](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zedille), who did a tremendous job of correcting my gramma, punctuation and use of idioms (all remaining mistakes are of course my own). Also huge thanks go to [Kargona](http://kargona.livejournal.com/) for her encouragements in times of my despair of my writing abilities.
> 
> I don’t own anything about Marvel’s Avengers))

***  
Director Fury is one of the scariest people Natasha’s ever come across (and she once knew the Winter Soldier). He’s also as mad as a hatter.

The first thing he says to Natasha is, “Now that you're with us, Barton is your and Coulson’s shared responsibility, not just Coulson’s.”

“Shouldn’t that be the other way around, sir?”

“Who's in charge here, Romanoff?”

“You are. Sir.”

“Damn right, I am. And if I say how things are here, they're never the other way around, do you copy?”

“I copy, sir.”

“Great. So the next time Barton does something funny, I’ll have your hide. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

She doesn’t talk to Coulson about that at all, but he brings her coffee the next morning, which he never does, so he probably knows.

***  
SHIELD is a batshit crazy agency. Natasha is certain of that after only two weeks on board. The Red Room had its own brand of insanity, but SHIELD is even weirder.

Almost nobody here seems to think that Clint’s made the wrong call. Well, actually, Deputy Director Maria Hill was the only one opposing Natasha’s involvement with SHIELD. That probably makes Deputy Director Hill the last sane person around.

They _did_ try to isolate her for the sake of order, but apparently “No one can stop a crazy archer if he wants to visit his girlfriend, you know,” as Rosie Douglas, a girl in HR, tells her (“ _Боже мой_ *,” Natasha thinks blankly).

She doesn’t say a word to Clint about that turn of the conversation, since his sense of humor is actually nasty. Rosie is a decent one: she'd even helped Natasha fill out several forms before Natasha had gotten the hang of them.  


She says, “Did you know HR calls you ‘the crazy archer?’” He counters, “Do you want to know what they call _you _?”__

__As a matter of fact, she doesn’t want to know. But gathering information is second (or possibly even first) nature to her, so she actually already knows._ _

__***  
Rosie isn’t the only one who doesn't seem to care in the slightest that one of the world's most deadly assassins is now on SHIELD’s payroll._ _

__Some senior agents even chat her up in the mess._ _

__“Why,” she asks Clint, “are they afraid of Coulson, but not of me?”_ _

__Clint smiles. “What, are you jealous?”_ _

__“Maybe a bit,” she admits. “Though I’d probably have to break a hand or two if they tried anything, and Coulson wouldn’t be very pleased.”_ _

__“I can see why that would be a problem,” he deadpans. “And anyway, they’re perfectly justified,” he adds after a pause, even though nobody had asked for his fucking opinion. “You’re totally hot, I’d make a pass at you myself if you weren't, like, my grandma or something.”_ _

__The next time they spar, she makes a special point of not holding back. Barton spits up blood, laughs, and thanks her for the experience._ _

__The gossip mill reports trouble in paradise._ _

__Coulson doesn’t comment at all._ _

__***  
Coulson has the same military background (the Army Rangers) as Fury; nor does he have any family to speak of. Once he believes in you, he doesn’t change his mind easily._ _

__Coulson’s love life is next to non-existent, and not because of any lack of interest from women (and occasionally men). Natasha is pretty sure that Deputy Director Maria Hill has a thing for him, as well as several of the other SHIELD agents that Natasha now knows, but Coulson is straight and he doesn’t want Hill, Natasha, or any other agent. Coulson is looking for a nice, normal woman to have a nice, quiet family life with, but unfortunately no normal woman is nice enough to put up with the super secret-agent shit that is Coulson’s job._ _

__Sometimes Natasha pities him, and sometimes she envies him his determination._ _

__***  
Coulson’s name is Phillip, or Phil, and he was the one who recruited Clint in Croatia back in 1998. Their relationship is the stuff of SHIELD’s legends._ _

__The junior agents say that Coulson shot Clint in the leg and then threatened to shoot him in the head if he didn't join SHIELD. They also say that it was Clint who found Coulson first and persuaded the agent to take him on board. They say that Clint and Coulson fucked first, and talked later. Sometimes they throw Natasha into the mix, and then the tales become really dirty. She doesn’t mind._ _

__Even in those wild stories, she's usually on top, which shows at least a certain level of respect._ _

__***  
Barton and Coulson work together as a well-oiled mechanism. Coulson is a strategist and an anchor, and Barton a tactician and chaotic force. For now, Natasha isn’t sure how she fits between them, but she knows it’s just a matter of time before she finds out. She isn’t here only because of her beautiful eyes, after all._ _

__Some agents have the stupid idea that Barton is just muscle, just a specialist who has to be told where to go and what to shoot. Those are probably the same agents who think that Phil Coulson is an android or a paper-pusher, so Natasha can’t help but feel a bit sorry for them._ _

__***  
The Budapest job in February 2004 is their first job as a team. It is so very satisfying for Natasha (in the end she gets to fire a bazooka, and afterwards she learns something quite interesting); it’s not so satisfying for Clint._ _

__He actually gets shot in the leg three days into the op and is confined to the hotel room. She hears his disgruntled voice in her ear as Coulson threatens to handcuff him to the bed if he doesn’t stop trying to escape. “Oh, we could have so much fun, sir,” Clint suggests in response. “I’ve always thought you suits would be into this kinky shit.”_ _

__“Handcuff him to the radiator,” she says, assembling the rifle. (Clint thinks he's the only one who can make the shot, but disillusioning him is part of her job description, written in very small print. She lacks his finesse, of course, but she isn't _blind_.)_ _

__“Hey!” Barton cries indignantly._ _

__“I'm perfectly justified,” she replies, assuming position on the roof. “It would be absolutely secure, for one. And also, you know, it’s not a bed, so there’s no room for innuendo.'_ _

__“Thank you for your input, Agent Romanoff,” Coulson says, and she is absolutely sure that she can hear a hint of a smile in his voice. “Don't get too distracted, please.”_ _

__***  
She hits the mark, and then she runs for eleven hours straight, and then she fires the bazooka and gets the amulet they're after, and then Coulson eviscerates her verbally for half an hour without ever even raising his voice once. Evidently, she wasn’t careful enough with her own safety._ _

__Clint, who isn't handcuffed to any part of the room (no surprise there) winces sympathetically._ _

__“You may hit me, you know,” she says, just to be difficult (and, as usual, also to find out something more)._ _

__Barton chokes. Coulson doesn't even blink._ _

__“Why would I?” he asks._ _

__She shrugs._ _

__“I see,” he answers thoughtfully. He doesn't say a word to her for the next fortnight until she decides that being childish is really Clint's job, and simply apologizes._ _

__***  
“I told him he should have been flattered,” Barton says, “since, you know, you let him hit you and all. I can't imagine you extending such offers lightly, even if we all know why you did it.”_ _

__She smiles unpleasantly.  
__

“He is our handler, if you've somehow forgotten. Some of my old ones wouldn't have waited for an engraved invitation. I endangered his precious asset, didn't I?” 

__“You aren't just an asset to him,” Clint says quietly, seriously. “Nobody is.”_ _

__“Still, he wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice us for the greater good.”_ _

__“That's not true, and that's not the point, anyway.”_ _

__Well, she already knew Clint was loyal. Now she knows who he’s loyal to._ _

__The problem (for SHIELD, at least) is that his loyalty isn’t to the agency. His loyalty is to one Agent Phillip Coulson, and that connection is so much more beautiful and complicated and dangerous than any sexual relationship that junior agents could imagine._ _

__She really appreciates the beauty. The danger, too._ _

__***  
A few days later, she asks, “So, you and Coulson...?”_ _

__He frowns. “You too?”_ _

__She shakes her head, elaborates. “I mean, how did you two really meet?”_ _

__Clint sighs. “After you left, I met my brother for the first time in years. That ended badly for me.”_ _

__She waits, silent and unmoving._ _

__“Coulson gave me a choice,” he says finally._ _

__She’s almost (almost) sure that it wasn’t the same choice Clint himself gave her five years later. His ledger hadn’t had (it still doesn't have, and if she has any say in the matter, it never will have) enough red for that._ _

__He doesn’t say anything more. She doesn’t ask._ _

__***  
Clinton Francis Barton, Clint, was betrayed a lot – by his parents, by his foster parents, by his circus mentors, by his brother, and probably by Natasha herself (if one chooses to examine her abandoning him in a five-star Havana hotel in 1997 closely enough), so she isn’t surprised that he is really loyal to the one dependable person in his life._ _

__That doesn’t mean he doesn't have one or two (or possibly ten, since Natasha herself has fifteen) backup plans: that’s just sensible for people in their line of work._ _

__Natasha thinks that now she might understand what Fury had been talking about._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *боже мой –bozhe moy, my god!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long delay, real life happens. 
> 
> Again, many thanks to [zedille](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zedille) for her great job as my beta. All the remaining mistakes are my own.

***  
Charles Bernard Barton resurfaces suddenly towards the end of 2004.

It’s the 20th of December, and Coulson isn’t due back until tomorrow evening, since he’s tying up some loose ends in Argentina. Clint’s late for their debriefing with Agent Walton (as he sometimes is), but he’s so wound up (which he rarely is) when he finally shows up that Natasha corners him afterwards and says, “Out with it.”

“My brother wants me to help him with his next con,’' Clint answers, looking haunted and lost. She hates Charles Barton so much more for causing that look in his brother's eyes.

“Does he know about SHIELD?”

“He thinks I'm still on my own.”

Natasha doesn't know what hole Charles was hiding in for the last six years (or maybe he was in prison, she wouldn't put it past him), but for the sakes of both Barton brother, it would have been better if he’d stayed there forever.

“Take me with you to your meeting.”

“Natasha,” Clint sighs, “he’s my brother.”

She’s perfectly capable of killing for him or for Coulson, she’s done that three times already, and Clint doesn't even know about the second time (though Coulson probably does).

_He was a right bastard to you,_ she doesn't say, though she knows some bits and pieces from their early childhood and their time in the circus.

‘'I won't kill him,” she says instead.

She is perfectly capable of lying for (and to) him, too.

***  
Charles recognizes her instantly (unexpected, and it makes her uneasy). She can see that recognition in the minute shift in his stance, and the flicker of his eyes, but he doesn't say anything to acknowledge it.

“Got yourself a girlfriend, little brother?” he asks instead in an overly pleasant tone (she feels how Clint tenses at her side).

“Is she any good in bed?” Charles continues. “Are you willing to share?”

He's got balls, she has to give him that. The men who recognize her usually aren’t so flippant about her mating habits: she’s a Black Widow for a reason. Something is so very very wrong here, but she can’t see clearly what it is.

She lets his commentary slide, for now. “Hawkeye says you've got a job.”

Charles smiles predatorily. “Oh does he, now.”

Clint shifts from foot to foot. Natasha stays perfectly still.

“I found you the best job, little brother,” Charles says in a singsong voice. “'You’re going to kill a man and a wife, and you’ll get lots and lots of money to spend on your pretty girl.”

Silence stretches on. Something surely is off. Charles knows Clint’s going to refuse. _What’s his game? Think, Widow, think!_

***  
“I'm not interested,” Clint finally says.

“You've always been a looser and a wimp,” Charles says brightly. “I can't even start to imagine what it’s like being so weak and pathetic. I'll find somebody else, a real man who isn't afraid of a real job.”

Charles turns and leaves the warehouse, and that's when Natasha understands. She pushes Clint (he’s actually frozen on the spot) in the opposite direction and cries, “Run!”  


But she’s too late, and the bomb goes off while they’re still inside.  


When she comes to, Clint’s unconscious, and she curses in all the languages she knows. Natasha checks him for injuries (concussion, that's for sure, but it’s probably not too bad). Then she contacts SHIELD and then half carries, half drags Clint somewhere that looks safe to wait for the medics. How could she not have checked the place for nasty surprises, knowing what she knows about Clint and Charles’s relationship and history? (“Complicated” doesn’t cover half of it.) And wouldn't it have been ridiculous for the Black Widow to die in an explosion arranged by a petty criminal after his brother's head?

***  
Later, Clint’s left to the tender mercies of SHIELD's infinitely effective medical care. Fury and Coulson chew her up for going to the meeting with Charles without any backup (though it’s nothing she hasn't already told herself at least twice). 

“'I'm an old woman,” she tells Phil that evening.  


Coulson snorts.

“You’re going to sing at my funeral, as my mom used to say,” he answers.

“I imagine she was an interesting woman.”

“She was a great woman,” Phil answers softly. “A great spy, too. I imagine you might have met her on one of your field trips to Western Europe when you were still with the Red Room.” 

Natasha nods. For once, she doesn't know what to say.

Today she’s learned more about her teammates' families than she probably will in the next few decades, since they usually don’t talk about personal matters. And she feels somehow inadequate, because there isn’t anything she can tell Coulson about her family in return (not that he'd ever ask her for something like that, of course).

“Charles decided Clint betrayed him, even though it was the other way around,” Phil says eventually.

Natasha laughs briefly, mirthlessly.

“My motherland has the same feeling towards me,” she says. Coulson looks at her, startled, and she suddenly realizes that that was probably the closest thing to talking about her family that she can offer him.

“We need to do something about Charles,” she says quickly. Coulson gives her a nasty smile and says blankly, “All taken care of, agent, and you’re benched for two months, anyway.” She doesn't ask, though she'd love to help with this one.

***  
Natasha doesn't ask, but Clint does.

Phil shrugs and says, “FBI,” as if it’s the answer.

Clint doesn't ask again, but the night he’s released from Medical he goes off-base without leave (which isn't actually all that unusual) and doesn't come back in the morning (which is).

She gives him eight more hours, and then tracks him down to a bar in the seediest part of town.

***  
He excels at darts and closes his eyes when throwing, show-off that he is. He was in at least two brawls, he probably hasn't slept in more than twenty-four hours, and he’s totally, absolutely drunk. As a rule, Clint doesn't drink, but if he drinks, well. She stands right behind him, and he doesn't even notice.

She swears quietly in Russian (those are still the best curses she's ever learned, except possibly for some in Afghani). Looking around the bar (really looking now), she meets Coulson's eyes, which are as serious and deadly as ever. Coulson’s superpower is to fade into the background, and she really shouldn’t have let it fool her again.

Of course, he’s a better person than she'll ever be. When she decided to let Clint have his privacy (and possibly get himself killed), Phil followed him like the invisible, overprotective shadow that he is.

She nods curtly and turns to leave, but one of Clint's drinking buddies calls out, “Hey, Robin Hood, your girlfriend's come to fetch ya,”  


Clint whirls around and overbalances, and she steadies him with a hand on his shoulder. He gives some kind of battle cry, trying to slap her hand off and kick her at the same time, and then she officially loses it. The next thing she knows, she’s staring at his face with her knee on his neck as he sobs drunkenly and says, “Barney, Natasha. What have we done?”  


Coulson tells something to the men at the bar (it sounds like “Circus marriage, people, what do you know?”), while she gets up and helps Clint. They leave the bar and pack into Phil's car, Natasha and Clint in the back seat. His head rests on her shoulder, and he repeats “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” over and over again. She doesn't know if he’s apologizing to her or to his older brother, who’s going to be staying in prison for a long, long time. (She also doesn't know if giving Charles Barton to the FBI was SHIELD being merciful, but she wouldn't want such a mercy for herself).

***  
Clint stays in his quarters for two days, leaving only for his psych evaluations. He also has many quiet talks with Coulson.  


Natasha comes to him in the evenings to play chess and read him her favorite poems until he can't listen to her anymore. He tries unsuccessfully to smother her with a pillow when she starts Ginsberg’s “Howl”; the pillow quickly becomes collateral in the brief fight that ensues (so do the lamp on his table and a small cactus on the windowsill), but he's smiling at her in the end, a weak and uncertain smile, and for now that's enough.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, so sorry for the long-long delay. But it's finished now!  
> Huge thanks to [zedille](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zedille) for her fabulous beta job.  
> All the remaining mistakes are my own.

***  
Natasha suddenly remembers Charles Barton when she talks to an old friend about some unrelated business several years later.

“...Killed his own brother,” the man says. “Some say he killed his brother’s girlfriend, too, because he didn’t want any competition, or something like that. Fucking bastard."

That reminds Natasha of that evening in the warehouse with the Barton brothers, and she has an uneasy feeling about it. So she starts digging.

She talks to people. She sleeps with people, then talks to them. She smiles, she threatens, she blackmails. She’s ready to kill, even if she knows that Coulson wouldn't approve. Natasha wants to know what happened. She’s a spy, she can’t afford not knowing.

***  
When Natasha finally discovers the real deal between Charles Barton and the FBI, she goes to Coulson first. That’s not a testament to how much more she believes in the greater good now than she did several years ago (she doesn’t). But she knows Phil now. She knows (hopes) he had a reason. Clint’s trust is a fragile thing, and Phil wouldn’t have endangered it for nothing.

She comes to his office, closes the door, and tosses him the flash drive. Phil catches it without any effort, plugs it in, scans through the single file, then frowns and rereads it carefully.

“That’s... actually enlightening,” he says at last, and she can see that it’s an honest reaction.

He didn’t know, then.

***  
“You wouldn’t have told Barton, even if you knew,” she says.

Phil nods.

“This is above even my clearance,” he answers softly.

She understands. But she doesn’t want to.

This is so far above Clint’s clearance that he shouldn’t even be able to imagine that level of secrecy. But this is also about Clint’s brother, who’s not actually a criminal, and who never wanted to kill Clint (either he believed his brother would survive, or he thought SHIELD would protect its operative). Charles is so deeply undercover as a cold-hearted psychopathic arms dealer now that even his FBI handlers are not sure when, if ever, he’ll be able to return to them.

That doesn't mean he isn't the same bastard who made Clint's life hell on several occasions (and who was ready to make Clint believe that Charles wanted him dead just for a good cover story in the first place), but there’s still a certain difference between being a shitty brother and killing your own sibling (or Natasha believes there is, at least). She doesn't believe in the greater good, but she once decided that Clint’s belief in it was enough for her, and she’s stood by that decision for four years now.

“I’m telling him,” Natasha says. She owes him that much. “You may punish me later.”

Coulson sighs.

“If you don’t tell him about our little chat, I’ll pretend we never had it in the first place.”

Natasha smiles (all teeth) and goes to find Clint.

***  
Natasha isn’t actually that interested in undermining Clint’s faith in Coulson. Coulson’s such a good handler that she enjoys most of their ops together, and he’s a good enough man that she doesn’t want to really harm him.

Still, freedom is freedom. Natasha’s with SHIELD because Clint’s with SHIELD (and because they were good enough to find her in the first place), and Clint’s with SHIELD because of Coulson (and because Clint’s a fool who believes in the greater good). Without Coulson, Natasha would have been able to take Clint and go AWOL if push came to shove. And it would be easier for Natasha to hide from SHIELD and the Red Room if Clint were with her than if she were alone.

But compromising Coulson means betraying Clint’s trust one more time, and Natasha’s afraid that could easily be one time too many.

***  
Natasha gives Clint the flash drive, says nothing, and goes to find something edible in the mess. She doesn’t see him again for over fifteen hours.

That’s okay; she expected just that.

The last time she checks before going to sleep, he’s still on base, so everything else doesn’t count.

***  
Natasha is woken by an intruder in the wee hours in the morning. She’s out of bed and pinning him to the wall, knife pointed at his eye, before she’s _actually_ awake. She recognizes Clint, so she exhales and throws him on the bed before settling down next to him and putting away the knife.

“You really do have a death wish,” she says.

“I really don’t,” he answers absent-mindedly, looking up at her. “You know, Phil says this is news for him, too”

She shrugs. “It’s completely classified. Fury probably knows.”

“Probably,” Clint says easily.

He sounds like he doesn’t care. Well, he never trusted the Director in the first place.

***  
“I could find him for you,” she says.

Clint shakes his head.

“No, that would endanger the whole op. I’m not that desperate.”

He kind of is, but she would be the last person to point that out.

“Besides, you still want to kill him,” he adds.

“That I do,” she agrees easily.

“He’s probably safer where he is, isn't he?”

Natasha grins.  


***  
“Tell me something ridiculous,” Clint says eventually.

“I know just the story,” Natasha answers. “There was a poet in the Soviet Union. A very good one, but he’s not very famous now. He wrote a poem in 1920, an autobiographical one, I imagine. So a student’s in a prison, and he’s being interrogated by a woman. Well, not really interrogated, she just asks him lots of questions, and he denies everything. He’s bored, and all the while he wonders, what color her panties are. That’s what really concerns him.”

Clint snorts. “There’s no way that’s actually by a Soviet poet,” he says. “Weren’t they all supposed to write about the general line of the Party, or some shit like that?”

“For that, I won’t tell you how he finds out the color,” Natasha says. “And I’ll have you know there were lots of great love poems, too,” she adds haughtily.

“Come on, Tasha,” Clint whines, “even you can’t be that cruel!”

“Nope,” she says.

“I’ll grovel!”

“Please do.”

Clint shuffles to get up from the bed, and she catches his hand to hold him still.

“Fine,” she says, trying for exasperated, but smiling despite herself. “So he goes over several colors in his mind, but he rejects them all – she’s too young for the dark blue, and as a brunette, she wouldn’t wear pink, and so on.”

She stops.

“And…?” Clint prompts.

“And when they take him away, he asks her about her favorite color,” she says after a pause.

“Cheater!” Clint laughs. “So, what’s the answer?”

“Lemon yellow,” Natasha says.

Clint laughs again, and she considers that a personal victory.

***  
They don’t talk after that. He lies there motionlessly, staring at the ceiling as Natasha sits cross-legged, thinking about the Winter Soldier for the first time in years.

Finally, Clint sleeps, and she cradles him in her arms like the child she’s never had. She pretends she doesn’t hear one of the strongest men she’s ever known sobbing in his dreams as sleep evades her completely.  


***  
In the morning, everything is back to their version of relatively normal.

Something explodes in the R&D lab, and Phil arranges the evacuation. Clint makes a researcher cry with one of his crueler jabs, but then sets it right by making her smile and then laugh at something ridiculous.

Everyone thinks Barton is unmanageable, but adorable. There are probably only five or six people, tops, in all of SHIELD who know better.

***  
In the evening Natasha receives an email from the Director. She’s not ashamed to admit that even looking at it in her inbox makes her a little bit nervous.

“ _thanks_ ,” it simply says.

“ _For what?_ ” she decides to ask.

“ _for looking out for them, obviously, are you dumb or what? cause i’m not interested in employing dumb fucks, if that’s the case,_ ” comes the answer.

“ _No, sir_ ,” she writes. “ _Sorry, sir. Won’t ask again, sir_.”

“ _you’d better, agent_ ,” he writes back.

She thinks once again that he’s as mad as a hatter, but he’s still one of the most dangerous people Natasha’s ever met (and she was once a lover of the Winter Soldier).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem Natasha talks about is by a very good Soviet poet Ilya Selvinsky.   
> Unfortunately, I couldn't find a translation :( But some of his works were translated into English.  
> For my Russian-speaking readers, the poem mentioned is "МАДАМ ЭН-ЭН" ([here I posted it some time ago](http://marishia.livejournal.com/1361041.html))


End file.
